


Echoes

by valiantprincex



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, Ghosts, idk what's up with this fic except i did start crying near the end so there's that :/
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3251633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valiantprincex/pseuds/valiantprincex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The clock struck midnight as the last drop of blood squeezed from Sarah’s veins, all red, hot, staining the snow around her. It scrawled dark rivulets down her brow, curving ‘round her wrists and pooling into the hollow of her neck like a sick tide. She was long past gasping for breath, too far gone to feel the cold or pain; her heart pumped valiantly once, twice – felt the emptiness inside her – three times before stopping, a shuddering halt.</p><p>or where Sarah and Beth are ghosts</p>
            </blockquote>





	Echoes

**Author's Note:**

> prompted: Beth and Sarah have died, but are together as ghosts, watching their romance from start to finish. Imagine them sitting in their dark kitchen, invisible, watching their past selves dance together there in the middle of the night, a long time ago.

The clock struck midnight as the last drop of blood squeezed from Sarah’s veins, all red, hot, staining the snow around her. It scrawled dark rivulets down her brow, curving ‘round her wrists and pooling into the hollow of her neck like a sick tide. She was long past gasping for breath, too far gone to feel the cold or pain; her heart pumped valiantly once, twice – felt the emptiness inside her – three times before stopping, a shuddering halt.

Snow fell gently onto her eyelids, mixing with the redness there until she is crying tears of blood, her chest shock still in the night. It covered her like a shroud, buries the knife sheathed in her side – as the saying goes: she could be sleeping. Her eyes were mirror pools of whiteness, twin orbs suspended on her face; waxy skin marked by dark swirling bruises, the last remnants of shadow still clinging to her lashes.

The world turned, her limbs frozen from the cold even before rigor set in, her blood turned to chips of red ice, rose petal patterns across her chest.

She woke to cold, barren streets; the sun barely a wink on the horizon Sarah stood, shook the memory of snow from her shoulders and felt the edge of a blade laid neatly into her ribcage. Her hands found it and tugged, she felt it leave her and fall, dissipating in an instant like the morning mist. Her eyes found the sun, tracked it’s path as it climbed higher only to fall again, the world turning dark, cold, again.

She realized she wasn’t breathing. One hand snapped to her side, pushed against her side where there was – nothing. Her hands found warm skin, flawless, bloodless. Sarah’s lungs wanted to scream for air, she gasped, hands reaching for her throat to – breathe? Sarah pulled one foot out of the snow beneath her and kicked, watched the flurries spin and wink out of existence, snuffed candlelight. She raised her hands to her face and didn't breathe, felt her lungs motionless with in her and yet she did not fall, strangled, onto the alley floor.

And for the first time, Sarah noticed the people. The street looked alien to her, clean swept and free of blood (blood? why would it have blood in the first place why would it), the people spreading out like a tide. Like chattering shades they pushed and shoved and laughed, running and Sarah reached out to them, her hand stopping right before touching flesh. She pushed harder, her hand freezing, lighting trickling from her fingers to her shoulder.

Sarah reeled, eyes rolling at the pain of it, the sun shaking in the sky.

The moon rose – set – rose – Sarah couldn't _tell_ anymore and that’s what frightened her, made her wish for her blood to run cold. Made her wish she _had_ blood. The sun and moon danced above her, a sacred duet, her feet tracking miles, hurting, _centuries_ and back again, the world skipping before her eyes, a broken record.

She came to a train station. She came to a dozen train stations, came to the same place over and over and over again through time. She watched the trains come-and-go, watched people die. Saw them step off a precipice and emerge screaming, saw them die and rise again and claw at her, held their hands and helped them to walk again. She could touch them.

Sarah came to a train station and waited for someone to die, held out a hand to feel their warmth and roughness, drag them away and into the night-day-oh, it didn't matter anymore. She never stayed with them.

She helped them rise to unsteady legs and rubbed the blood-smoke off their faces and let them leave. They never wanted to stay.

She didn't want to care. Kept searching, hoping. Reeled time and wound it ‘round her fingers, let it flow free and tanged again.

She kept her name like a promise, rolled it between her teeth as she waited, liked shouting it and watching the living jump with terror. She pulled her leather jacket over her shoulders and let her hands memorize every inch, made a game of it. Drop it, watch it settle, remake it. An eternity alone.

Her hands ached from another soul leaving, he was _done_ , the boy whispered to her, he wanted to leave and so she let him, reeled back time again to wait.

“Hey.”

It took Sarah another eternity to hear, feel the hand settled on her shoulder. She turned and let time fall through her fingers, saw the way –––– caught it, froze it.

“H–” Her voice shook. The woman laughed, tightened her grip.

“You look,” Her voice stopped. She smiled. “Live fast, die young, huh?”

Sarah didn’t move, her voice caught, suddenly remembering the way her chest doesn't move, the way air stales in her throat.

“Sarah.” The woman said, and on her lips it sounded like reverence.

“Hey, I–” Sarah shook her head. “My name is Sarah Manning.”

“I know that, dipshit,” and the woman seized Sarah’s shoulders, _Beth_ seized Sarah’s shoulders, letting Sarah fall into her like dying, all over again.

“I thought,” Sarah bit her lip and imagined blood. “I started to think you’d left. A long time ago.”

“Well here I am,” Beth said, letting go of Sarah and spreading her arms, “welcome.”

“So. Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere,” Beth grabbed her hand and pulled, letting time unravel from her fingers. “I need to show you something.”

Sarah followed, fought to hide the smile tugging at her lips. Failed. Laughed.

Beth led her through lifetimes, hand warm against Sarah’s palm, warm as she hadn’t felt in, well. Forever.

“Here.” Beth let Sarah’s hand go, pointed. Sarah squinted in the dark, heard the sound of boots-on-stone, yelling. “That’s you,” Beth whispered in her ear, pointing again. “That’s me.”

Sarah’s eyed tugged at their corners, saw two women standing in the cold, heard the scream of a train. Saw both of them stand and leave, alive.

Beth kisses her, her hands grasping Sarah’s leather jacket and pushing against her lips, her grin a sharp curve. Sarah kisses back, laughing. “Is this you idea of romance?”

“Basically,” Beth whispered, eyes burning, “you don't like it?”

“I love it,” Sarah retorted, pulling back. “But I love _you_ more.”

Beth shook her head and grabbed Sarah’s hand again, letting the moon set-rise behind them. Let the world settle to a dark room, let her arms wrap around Sarah in the darkness. “Watch,” she whispered.

Sarah stared at her, let her eyes memorize the slow-steep angles of Beth’s face.

“Not me, watch. Or you’ll miss it.” Beth pointed, the light flickering on as if on cue.

“Not like we can’t go back,” Sarah grumbled, turning her eyes to the scene before her, the twisting forms flickering in the dim light.

At the first note crackling from the speaker, Sarah was crying. She buried her face into the hollow of Beth’s neck as the memory surfaced like a breaking wave, as it crashed her tears wet the front of Beth’s shirt and her ribs shook, earthquakes rumbling under the shadow of skin.

“Hey, you’re missing it,” Beth teased, winding her hand through Sarah’s hair, letting the other settle on her back.

“Shut it,” Sarah mumbled, something like a cough ripping through her lungs.

The music continued, the taste of laughter and wine making the air crackle, twin figures spinning in the room, brushing past Beth and Sarah, sending lighting through their skin. Gradually the dancers stopped, falling onto the couch in a breathless pile of limbs and joy. The speakers stuttered to a stop slowly as the figures fell into a heavy sleep.

“So,” Sarah wiped the tears from her eyes, felt the way her eyes burned from it. “What now?”

“Anything we want.” Beth ran one finger down the bridge of Sarah’s nose, pressed one kiss into the top of her head. “If you want to keep playing guardian angel–”

Sarah cut her off with a low chuckle, wove their fingers together in her lap. “Do you know what happens, yeah, when you leave?”

“No idea, I’m here too, remember?”

Sarah lay silent for a long time, feeling the way Beth’s chest moved, the way the heat from it coursed through Sarah’s fingertips. “Do you wanna try? Together?”

“Sure,” Beth laughs, “we have all the time in the world.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, please kudos + comment! it means a lot :)


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